


Yo, Open up a little.

by Inauratalux



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Chargers are sorta hinted to be there, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 13:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inauratalux/pseuds/Inauratalux
Summary: The Inquisitor is a bit inexpressive most of the time and makes choices influenced by his responsibilities. Bull just wants to present him with a choice he can make for himself without having to worry about what everyone else would want him to do.Things go well.





	Yo, Open up a little.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote purely because I was pondering the emotional and mental state of the Inquisitor throughout the game.

     There was something about Peaches that always bothered Bull. The Dalish Elven warrior had easily distanced himself from his responsibilities emotionally, no longer placing any value on his own opinions or values. The Inquisition practically owned the man, now.

      Bull attempted to remedy this by initiating a sexual relationship with him, and he was certain it’d worked right up until the Inquisitor approached him listlessly and inquired about how they would move on from here. Did Bull want something romantic? Or did he want this to a casual, one time thing?

      He turned the statement around; he wanted Peaches to be the one to make a decision. His __own__ decision, not one shaped and refined by his Advisers.

      There had been a moment of panic on the man’s face, however fleeting. It spoke volumes to The Iron Bull, and he leaned forwards in his seat a bit to get closer to the elf. Lavellan of course, promptly shook his head to himself and whatever the hell his mind was cooking up, and gave a terse “I need a moment.”

      He didn’t come back, not immediately.

      Thankfully, Bull was a patient man, if not hopeful for the wiry warrior to come back if given time to truly think things over. He resigned himself to his routine of training, knocking Krem onto his ass, and drinking with the Chargers. They said little on the matter as well, but Bull knew by their pointed looks and avoidance of speaking of the Inquisitor that they knew. And were probably peeved.

 

-

 

      Of course, nothing ever went as planned. Not that The Iron Bull was going to bitch about it! No, oh no, he was fucking __thrilled__. Fighting a High Dragon, no, THREE High Dragons within just a few days between each with little time to rest?! It was his dream. His entire mood was lifted, and the giant Qunari found himself retelling the tale every night at the Herald’s Rest. Even the Inquisitor came to drink and listen in before he calmly added his own two coppers to the story.

      So Bull was content with their relationship. They were friends, partners, and Dragon Slaying comrades.

      Except, something was missing. He still bedded other servants, a visiting Orlesian noble on occasion, and on lonelier nights, his hand.

      Until finally, __finally__ , Peaches came up to him again with a nervous smile. He asked quite a few questions, never addressing their previously shared intimacy, but the questions were close enough to the topic that Bull had his suspicions about what the elf intended.

      These suspicions were confirmed later when a fidgeting, stammering, overly expressive Inquisitor stumbled up to him.

      “I-I-I h-have something f-for you.” Peaches had stated.

      “Really?” A wide grin split his face, “Well, I think I got something for you too.”

       Lavellan’s brow shot up into his hair line and he gawked at Bull like the man had miraculously sprouted another set of horns. Bull just winked down at the small (Everyone was kind of small to the Qunari. He couldn’t help it.) elf as he stood and placed his hand over their shoulder, “Come on, I’ll go first.”

 

-

 

       The relationship between blossomed into something far more romantic than it had been previously over the following months. Peaches relaxed more, and even began to take care of himself not for the Inquisition, but _for_ himself.

       That didn’t stop him from adopting the dispassionate mask in public, as much it irked Bull to see Lavellan regress to the Force’s puppet, but it was a start.

       It was __their__ start.


End file.
